One Handed Sketches
by Fang25
Summary: Ever wondered why Malik is always scratching away at a scroll on his desk at the bureau? And Altaïr never does get to see what exactly he’s getting up to... well... at least Malik hopes not. Alty/Maly ensures.
1. Chapter 1

Hi and thanks for clicking, this is my first ever post so I hope you enjoy it!

Btw i dont own any of the Assassins Creed Gang that pleasure is Ubisofts as if tehy were mine... well lets just say desmond would suddenly take a likeing to wearing pink ra ra skirts... ^.^

One Handed Sketches

_Ever wondered why Malik is always scratching away at a scroll on his desk at the bureau? And Altaïr never does get to see what exactly he's getting up to... at least Malik hopes not._

Altaïr fell from the roof of the bureau, he quickly picked himself up and dusted of his robes before strutting in the doorway to find Malik scratching away at his desk, doing god knows what, after he advanced upon him, Malik hid the scroll behind him and glanced up.

"Your trailing blood all other my new carpet, it's just been cleaned", and with that Malik looked back down to play with his feather.

Altaïr looked down to see that the horrible gash he has just received from one of the guards swords had split open when he had fallen... cough I mean landed with the utmost respect from the roof. He looked down at the back of Malik's head and narrowed his eyes then plopped himself on the desk the container holding the ink skidded off the desk and splattered everything in its path, including Malik, Altaïr and the lovely fresh carpet.

"Oops..." Altaïr grinned before jumping of the table and glancing back to see if his stunt had the desired effect. It had, Malik looked up with blue dripping from his nose, "Blue certainly is your colour hah hah ha" Altaïr burst out in a fit of giggles.

Malik bit the bottom of lip, before saying "If that's all you can amount to, spilling the innocent life of ink, you're in the wrong job." _Ha beat that pompous air head_.

Altaïr annoyed that his limelight had been shortened huffed and started his well rehearsed speech of getting to business.

"I have learnt all that I can from this town about the target, and ... blah de blah de blah de blah..."

This was all Malik could hear coming from the annoying 'novice' in front of him, _ha he'd have to get that in before he left._

Malik rolled his eyes and said "Yes, yes I have scaled far and wide running through obstacles risking life and limb, flying with the eagles and swimming with the fishes oh no hang a minute you didn't do the last part 'cos you cant swim, you say the same thing every time rookie... He put emphasis on the last word and smirked.

Altaïr looked taken aback for a bit then his face turned to the utmost loathing his eyes narrowing and his scarred lip getting bit to stop the retort that was so hoping to grace Malik's ears, composing himself, he said "So I have your blessing then?"

"Hmmm if it will make you go away and stop you making this place look untidy, then yes, you have my blessing...and my arm." He coughed and pretended to go and grab the feather with his non-existent arm...

Altaïr looked guilty but then narrowing his eyes said "How many times do I have to apologise, anyways its not as if I personally chopped it off, its called blade skill and I didn't have my arm chopped of because I have skill and I'm not a novice with a blade, you should have been more careful and...

Ooo big mistake, as it left his mouth Altaïr knew he had gone too far the look on Malik's face had been wiped from smug to an eye twitch.

"I'll show you who's a novice with a blade! Come back here my knife wants to make acquaintance with your eye!" Altaïr made his escape quick, grabbing the feather and climbing spazzily up the vines narrowly missing a throwing knife being embedded into the back of skull.

Malik walked back to the desk and picked up the scroll that he had hidden and scratched the word 'noobasauras' as a title, he then squatted down and opened a floorboard up and placed the scroll in with all his other 'treasures'.

"Now to find that cleaner, 'cos I'm not cleaning this mess up!"

A/N So what did you think? I have a few ideas for this story so depending on what Altaïr gets up to while he stalks his next target; will depend on what monstrosities Malik creates.

Thanks for reading any comments / feedback / ideas for sketches will be greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoyed the start of good things to come!

P.s Anyone who reviews gets a cookie!


	2. Chapter 2

One Handed Sketches Chapter 2

Thanks to al the reviewers as promised here are your cookies... hands cookies over... and also thanks to anyone who is reading this... Shame on you prying into the lives of Alty and Maly... tsk tsk

So to all those who are wondering I've decided to make this a trilogy and I may have to move the age rating up as you know what happens with conclusions... they get messy.. A bit like Malik's face after the ink incident anyways on with the show...

* * *

_Ha gets to him all the time, I didn't particular care anyway about the whole arm incident well I did but not as much as I make out, I mean sure it was my arm and ill never have it back but I suppose you win some you lose some, better that than my big toe for example. Although if it was the other arm with the hand attached then Altaïr wouldn't be able to walk for over a month unless he enjoys pulling brooms out of his ass... Heh, heh, that's a good image to add to the collection._

I retrieved a fresh leaf of parchment from under the floorboard and brought the other sketches out, I hadn't looked at them for a while 'cos he was always lurking around but he'd be gone for ages, everyone knew his target was one of the most elusive men of all time, and although Altaïr prides himself on being the best even he isn't that good.

Looking through all the sketches I see a particular one that I'm very fond of, its of Altaïr sat on the highest building in Jerusalem surveying the area like a hungry eagle would looking for its next prey... At least I suppose this one could be passable for someone else to view unlike some of the others in the other pile, I flicked through them... I don't even remember drawing half of these yet all of them make my heart start to beat faster and I can feel my cheeks starting to get flushed.

Which reminds me, I need to get that sketch done whilst it's still fresh in my head...

I walked towards my desk and plopped in my cushioned seat, nibbling at my lower lip I glanced down at the blank parchment, _Grr... an empty white open space is always an artists nightmare where to start, where to start..hmmm..._

I started to sketch Altaïr, I first started with his abnormally large head making it look like a gigantic balloon waiting to be popped... heh, and then his smaller proportional body, and then his face in agony ha, he deserves it and then I drew the broom half way up his well toned ass,... No stop, bad thoughts, this is supposed to be a justice sketch of what should happen to that arrogant novice not one of the other sketches that get put away for safe keeping. I looked over the picture and started to scratch in all the lines to his cloak paying detail to his red sash belt that wraps around his slightly muscled form and slips around to end up trailing down that firm ass and toned legs and... ah screw it ... I scratched out the broom and started to draw a distinctive one armed shape standing behind him, wrapping the arm around Altaïr and resting his head on his shoulder, scratching the agony out of the face and making it more proportional to the body I made his hood cover his eyes and his mouth slightly part and made his pouting lips glisten...

I looked over the sketch and started to feel goose pimples cover my body and my spine shiver, damn it, it happened again! Every time I try to draw a picture of that arrogant arsehole in pain and dying in some horrible way, this always happens... tsk tsk

I took the sketch over and added it to the largely growing pile of pictures that would never grace the light of day unless no one but I was there.

I deliberately left a couple of other sketches on the top of the pile just in case he ever did come across that floor board which he never would... some depicting him in a gruesomely viscous death others with him slashed into a thousand pieces... then there was the one armed Altaïr I left that as the last trap in case he'd come that far, even he would feel too guilty to continue, even he would stop at that... wouldn't he?

But you know Altaïr with his gigantic, egotistic head He never did learn to _draw_ the line...

Speaking of that head, its destined to one of these days get stuck in the bureau roof, when he falls down trying to act graceful when he's actually landed in the fountain, yes we all know that's what he does ....

Anyways note to self remember to draw that and it to the collection...

A/N So what did you think?

Thanks for reading any comments / feedback / will be greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoyed the story so far...

P.s Anyone who reviews gets a cookie and maybe some milk to go with it but NOT chocolate milk I'm not that generous!!


	3. Chapter 3

One Handed Sketches Chapter 3

Thanks to al the reviewers as promised here are your cookies... hands cookies over... and the milk.... and also thanks to anyone who is still reading this... Still peeping into the affairs of Alty and Maly? ... tsk tsk

So this is the end of this story unfortunately, well... fortune for anyone wanting a bit of Altaïr and Malik... but that's no-one is it? Well for anyone who is interested let the raven and eagle commence!

* * *

"Ding, Ding, Ding" The death bell started to ring, _so he had completed his mission then_, well I have approximately 2 minutes to get tidied up and unflustered before Mr. Prancing pants himself will intrude into my humble abode... bad thoughts indeed.

I started to tidy the bureau, the cleaner had done the best they could but once they saw the ink for the fourth time in the row they started to give me the shifty eye...

After I bustled around and picked up any evidence that I hadn't been sat at my desk I started to put all the pictures into a neat pile and carry them towards the floor board when...

"Bang" There was shouts coming from outside, Altaïr's voice... for the love of... does he have to make it so obvious of where he is all the time? I heard the wet sound of metal slicing flesh and heard Altaïr scream and then the sound of metal on metal and then a gurgle of blood clogging lungs, I know that sound a mile off. I dumped the pictures into a nearby chair and ran toward the roof hoping against hope that it was an archer that had just met there demise and not... Altaïr flayed like fish doing a summersault and landed with his leg bent funny onto the floor of the bureau... I dropped all my worry and tried not to laugh... _honest._

He got up dusted himself off and tried to look serious... he failed miserably. He stalked passed me into 'my office' and I followed still giggling.

"Well?"

"He is dead..." he tried to say this in a grave ominous voice... strike two with failing miserably.

"Well I could have told you that... the next three villages could have told you that... What with that death bell echoing around the globe... do you know even the deaf people could have told you that, they can feel it through their feet!" The sarcasm was dripping from my every pore.

"The job is done what does it matter if everyone knows? the more the better, he's gone from this world and that what matters!"

"No, you may be right about him being gone but you don't have to tell everyone and their camel when its happened, the less people know the better you may think your all high and mighty but leading them all here is not such a good idea... I don't particularly care if you lead them somewhere where you are by yourself and you get horrifically tortured and eventually killed but don't be bringing me and my place of harmony with you!"

"Why? Can you not handle the challenge? Are you afraid that the mean old templar's will take you remaining limbs?"

"...."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean it..."

"..."

"Actually, I said faking being hurt, "I'm afraid they'll mess up my carpet like which you have just done AGAIN! Can you not bleed somewhere else... hopefully in a bottomless well where no can see or hear you."

And with that I stalked out the room and eyeing up the pile of cushions I relaxed my head on the softness to calm down, I was just resting my eyes and just about to doze of when I heard rustling and vials being moved... Grrr if he's scavenging around my room like a beggar looking for scarps of food under a fat mans plate... _Ha that's an image that made me smirk, I would have to stop myself before I started to think how to bring the hunger in Altaïr's eyes onto paper and add it to my many sketches..._

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sudden quietness of the air... Strange it's never quiet when you have an attention seeking eagle wanting to tell the world of how great he is... I stood up and leaned against the doorframe hoping to catch him out at what he was doing.

Altaïr was facing the opposite direction, I could only see his back, he had discarded scrolls surrounding him in a circle, I turned my head to the side to catch what his face was doing, he had a scroll in his hands his face was questionably examining it.

I walked towards him noting that the nearest scroll to me had one of my more prouder sketches of him hanging off a cliff asking for a hand and me looking down the cliff saying you already took it... _heh heh good times_... by the look of Altaïr's face he most have found one of my other Altaïr death sketches... I usually kept some of them lying around so he would get the hint, but up to now this would be the first time he's actually acknowledged that he has seen them.

The quietness was getting to me. I turned to face the door.

'You know if you want I could make some of them sketches become reality, some of them I cant properly fulfil... but I suppose I can compromise on some and mix and match with the others so you get the full benefit... I mean I can't gouge your eyes out with a rusty nail after I've had chopped you up in too a trillion pieces and fed you to the hungry beggars of the street, they say they only want a few coins but I'm sure the fact that one tiny chunk of your egotistical, brainless, arrogant head will feed them for a month will go in my favour.'

I stopped to catch my breath, it was still quiet...

I turned around to face him, surely after all the insults we share; one picture could not be so bad that it has made him impeccable of speech?

The first thing I noticed was he hadn't moved from the same spot I had left him in. I walked over to him and snatched the scroll, instantly wishing I hadn't for what was sketched on the scroll was neither the one I had expected nor any of the ones it should have been...

_Shit..._

Not wanting to face the wrath of an angry eagle I cowardly avoided looking at his face as he turned my way, instead I examined his boots making an assessment of the scuff on the tips _from climbing on all those stupid buildings what does he think he is a spider?... _And then my eyes followed a streak of blood going from up his leg that had ran down from a particular large splatter, _someone else's I'd hoped, _and then I stopped as my eyes travelled to a particular large bulgethat had formed... horrified I chanced a glance up towards his face, under his hood I was met with two lust filled eyes...

_Shit..._

"I still have that rusty nail..." I pathetically shouted before I was pounced upon, we landed into my desk the ink and scrolls landing everywhere to my annoyance, 'Hey! That ink was my last and my favourio...' I was cut of by a pair of lips descending on my own, 'geewt owf mweh!' I started to protest but I was getting muffled by his expert tongue suffocating me and trying to get down my throat... _what did he think I was hungry and wanted to digest his tongue_... _I don't think so... So_ I done the only thing I could as he had me pinned against him... I bit his tongue.

It worked in removing the blockage so now I could breath, with a lingering taste of copper I tried catching my breath, I looked up to shout at him 'What the hell did you think you were do.... _wait where's he gone?_

Standing up I looked around the bureau...what the...

Bang... I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and a streak of silver caught my eye as is whizzed right in front of my face and down to my neck.

_Shit..._

"What was the meaning of them drawings Malik?"_ I felt his hot breath tickling my ear and travelling down my neck, my whole spine shivered into his chest behind me..._

"What drawings I don't know what you're talking about_..." that was my best attempt... I guess there's my first fail of the day._

He bit into where my neck met my shoulder, making _me bleed my own blood!_ I whimpered pathetically_, noo he's winning, right if he's using dirty tack ticks so shall I... _'Oh that drawing, well I got bored you see, there's not much for me to do mission wise **with me only having one arm!'**

_I tried to guilt him out of letting me go... second fail._

'So when you're bored you sit and draw pictures of me and you in very... compromising situations?' He purred.

"Well not exactly, the one where you where hanging by your own intestines over that cliff didn't involve me unless you count me being the one who put you there_..."_

I felt wet kisses travelling from my neck to the back of my ear, The blood from my neck and his tongue were starting to drip down staining my robes, I started to melt into his warm chest and the distinct smell of hay and leather and..._Nooo! He will not win this! _I tried edging forward but the blade was now cutting into my throat, and blood was starting to leave flickers all other the carpet. _Nice if the cleaner doesn't resign after this I'm defiantly given them a pay rise..._

With out knowing it he had put us both in the situation that I not so long ago had scratched into a blank sheet... the tremors that were running through my body were starting to annoy me... how can one man have this much control over me?

"You know if you want... I could make some of them sketches become reality..." I heard him whisper into my ear...mocking me from earlier...

"..."

"And don't think I haven't seen that floor board, I mean why do you think I spilt the ink? When you left to get that cleaner there was a big blue outline right around the edge..."

"..."

_And there was my third fail of the day, by this rate I'd be classed as a bigger novice than Alt_... My thoughts were abruptly stopped there, as I heard the distinctive sound of clothes being ripped behind me and the clang of weapons hitting the floor...

_Shit..._

A/N So what did you think?

Thanks for reading any comments / feedback / will be greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoyed the Alty/Maly goodness!

P.s I'm afraid I ran out of cookies *cough Altaïr eat them all cough* Eeesh but I can offer anyone who reviews a stolen picture from Malik's floor space.... Yes I will leave it at that!

^. ^ Fang ^. ^


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